New acolyte in the CBBC

New Acolyte in the Church of Big Black Cock

by OldCuck54

I was doing oral practice when Bishop Washington walked into the room and said “Come.” As I was the only acolyte in the training facility, I dropped to my knees and quickly began crawling toward him. My breasts were sore from the whipping they’d received earlier in the morning, but that had been my own fault. My large breasts had been designated “cow” size the day I’d come to the mission. As such, I’d been instructed very clearly about the special requirements of my crawling posture. The acolytes with somewhat smaller breasts were allowed to crawl on hands and knees. However, acolytes with “cow” udders are instructed to crawl with our elbows on the ground. This lowered position assures that our breasts drag on the ground as we move about.

Of course dragging udders help arouse god and as an acolyte I fully understand that there is nothing more important in life than the arousal of god. I had been by myself crawling from bed to my morning toilet when slut Nicky spotted me moving on hands and knees. She immediately ran off to inform Bishop Nigel of my transgression and he had allowed me to suggest the corrective action. When I said that I thought slut Nicky should decide, I did it to let her know that I was not angry. I knew that she was simply being a good slut in the Church for Big Black Cocks (CBBC). Slut Nicky knew that Bishop Nigel loves to whip a bitches titties with his belt while having his god fellated. I think Nicky enjoyed showing her skills in making god hard as a steel pole without emptying god’s sack too quickly. Bishop Nigel was able to give my titties 64 hard lashes before pouring his seed into Nicky’s mouth which she was kind enough to share with me.

Now, as I dragged my cow udders along the floor, it seemed that I could feel each and every one of those 64 lash marks. I tried very hard not to let the pain show. In fact I hoped that my wriggling buttocks and rocking shoulders were providing Bishop Washington with the proper stimulation for a god of the CBBC. My focus remained on the ground in front of me and specifically toward the sandals of the bishop.

My training had taught me that the proper worship of god must always begin at the feet. To show true devotion, the servant of god must be ready to debase herself completely. With that in mind, as my titties dragged along the ground, I was wetting my lips in anticipation of cleaning the Bishop’s sandals and feet with my tongue. By the time I reached the Bishop’s feet, my mouth was salivating and the drool was about to run down my chin. I hoped the Bishop had seen and noted my wanton desire.

Like a good slut in training my mouth and tongue stroked and lapped at the Bishop’s feet and toes. When the good Bishop lifted his foot, I immediately began licking and cleaning the bottoms of his sandals as well. It was evident that Bishop Washington had just come in from the stable, but I didn’t let that slow me in the least.

After a few minutes of foot worship, a snap of the fingers let me know that it was time to worship god. As I kissed my way slowly up the bishop’s leg, my lips had just left his knee when I first felt god on my bald head. I had not yet serviced Bishop Washington since my arrival at the CBBC and my pussy gave a little yip as I came into contact with god Washington for the first time. There is nothing more exciting for a slut in training than an encounter with god. It is the primary purpose of our existence. Being in the presence of god is a holy experience; being allowed to serve and service god gives true meaning to our lives.

I wanted to demonstrate for the Bishop that I was not some new tramp off the street. I was only three oral services away from being a cunt hole for god (as the bishop could easily see from the nine check marks tattooed on my bald head). An untrained tramp would have immediately opened her mouth wide and tried to suck on gods head, but a trained cock hole knows that proper worship requires a proper debasing show of submission. I simply continued dragging my tongue and lips up along the bishop’s thigh allowing god to push across the top of my bald head, down across my ear, cheek and neck. My tongue and nose were headed straight for the Bishop’s perineum, that sensitive stretch of skin between god’s mansack and asshole.

As a properly trained acolyte in the service of the CBBC I knew very well that this must always be the starting spot for the proper oral worship of god. I’d also learned that my next move was directed by the bishop. If he spread his legs wider it was the same as a command to move my tongue to his bottom. While awaiting a signal, my tongue swirled around and around the perineum area as my nostrils breathed deeply of the musky man scent of god’s mansack. Trying to show my devotion I dragged my nose back and forth underneath the heavy fleshy bag, inhaling deeply of the manly fragrance. After just a very few minutes, the bishop gave two non-verbal commands that I immediately understood. He picked up his foot slightly and touched his toe to my cunt as he then spread his legs considerably wider.

Complying with the leg spread required quickly spinning around and pressing my tongue against god’s shithole. The second command was also a test. The bishop now knew that my cunt was indeed wet and hungry, just as any acolyte of the CBBC should be when serving god. This was a test that I knew from experience I was not likely to ever fail. The toe touch also implies a further act of debasement. An acolyte is in no way considered a woman, she is more like a bitch puppy being trained. The toe touch meant that I was to show the bishop just how hungry this bitch puppy was right then. This is done by placing my legs on either side of the bishops leg and sliding in close. As I was worshiping god’s shithole, I needed to also hump the bishops leg with my wet cunt hole. Being a cow, I also was careful to wiggle my titties a bit until they straddled the Bishop’s leg as well.

Serving god’s shithole while humping the Bishop’s leg was easier said than done and required a bit of contortion. None-the-less I very quickly found myself sliding my wet snatch up and down the bishop’s leg while lapping around god’s shithole with my hungry tongue. It was clear that the bishop had been cleaned since last he used the toilet. I had served as toilet wipe many times since arriving here and appreciated that the bishop was quite clean and tasty. Though I’d accepted toilet work as a worthy service to god, I didn’t think that I would ever be able to enjoy it. I humped away like the satisfied bitch I was as my tongue lapped around and around and then  began pushing inside the shithole of god. For just the briefest moment, I thought about the young, innocent girl I had been such a short time ago. I was quite certain I had never heard of, nor contemplated analingus and yet here I was, performing the act with hunger and desire.

“Trombone me bitch,” the bishop said as my tongue pressed deep past his sphincter. To do this properly I was not going to be able to continue humping the bishop’s leg. Instead I moved so that both of my knees were between his legs and directly behind him. Using my hands, I again spread the bishop’s ass cheeks and planted my face firmly between them. My tongue was working into his hot wet shithole as I reached around his hips with both my hands so that one could cup his huge balls while the other began stroking god.

I had not yet serviced Bishop Washington and wanted to do everything possible to garner his checkmark on my bald head. The slutmomma superior had explained that checkmarks would be harder and harder to garner as the bishop’s standards would grow as the number of checkmarks tattooed on my head came closer and closer to the dozen required to move to the next stage of acolyte training. Each of the twelve black cocks that had been tattooed on my head would need to have a checkmark tattooed in it’s adjacent box before I would be allowed to begin learning to service god with my cunt. Once the last checkmark was received on my bald head, slutmomma superior would supervise the tattooing of my belly with the next set of twelve black cocks.

But first, before any of that could take place I needed to service the God Washington in a manner that would entice the bishop to give me my tenth oral service checkmark. I knew that god was enjoying the way I played trombone as he was getting harder and harder. As god grew in my hand I made sure to continue swabbing my tongue in and out of the bishop’s hot shithole. I was also making mental notes about God Washington. God was uncut and had an unusually thick vein wrapping around the shaft from the top of gods thick head and then winding down to his huge nutsack. And huge it was. God’s ballsack was so large it wouldn’t all fit in my hand and it hung down six or seven inches from God’s base. Each of God’s balls were at least as large as a golf ball. They were marvelously fleshy and I couldn’t help myself.

Sliding further between the bishops’s legs, I put both my hands on god while opening my mouth as wide as possible. I gently lapped the heavy leathery sack before suckling one of God’s balls gently into my mouth. I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my mouth as my wet cunt quivered. As my hands stroked up and down the full length of God, I suckled one ball while extending my tongue to lap at the other fleshy orb.

I was getting desperate. I needed God in my mouth and I was moaning and whimpering like a starving pup. I was just about to move in front of the bishop and begin my oral service of god when the bishop said,

“Stand up girl and press the flesh.”

Moving quickly to my feet and positioned myself directly in front of the bishop. As I moved close to him, one of my hands grasped God while I used my other forearm under my breasts to lift them as I pressed my self against the bishop. As I pressed close, my hand held God straight up and pressed against my belly. As God and my breasts were properly positioned, my arms went around the bishop so that I could hug myself tightly against his warm muscular ebony body. I pressed my face against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around me. I have never felt so loved and wanted as I did at that moment. I truly knew that I was in the embrace of God.

The bishop leaned his head down so that he could whisper in my ear. “You came here with the name of Heather nearly two months ago. Are you still happy that you have chosen to be an acolyte to big black cock?”

I simply nodded my head emphatically as I pressed my belly and breasts more firmly against his warm hard body.

“You have a marvelous body and we are all anxious to move your training forward. In fact, we have already drawn lots to determine which bishop will be the first to use your next hole. I was very pleased to draw the long straw. I will be the first to use your cunt just as soon as your head has all it’s checkmarks.”

I kissed the bishops chest and began rubbing myself against him. I wanted him to know how happy I would be to service him with the opening of my second fuck hole.

“I was surprised when I heard the name you hope to take at the end of your training. I want to hear it from your lips Heather. How do you wish to be known?”

A few weeks ago I had a very long discussion with the slutmomma superior and explained that I wanted to be sure that my name would not only please god, but that it should also fully arouse god. We talked about many possibilities, but in the end we decided that there was only one name for a big titted slut like myself. I turned my face up to look into the eyes of the bishop as I licked my lips and said clearly, “Bishop Washington, I would like to be named ‘rapemeat.’”

The bishops huge hands reached down to my buttocks and squeezed them like big melons as he spread them widely apart. After kneading them for a few moments, his hands moved up and around until they were below my breasts. As he moved me back slightly for better access, he took them in his hands and lifted then as though weighing them. As he held them, he began squeezing.

“You are rape meat bitch. Your fucking body screams to be used and abused.”

He was twisting my breasts now as he spoke. Back and forth before taking just the left one in both of his hands. He began squeezing it like I’ve never had it squeezed before. It was aching and it took all of my concentration to stand there and simply moan.

“These huge fat udders are perfect handles for raping any one of your hot fuck holes and your fat ass just begs to be stuffed with cock. Your fat luscious lips and full mouth is made to be wrapped around nigger cock and your cunt will be a perfect breeding hole. The name rapemeat is perfect for you bitch. Tell me slut, did you want to suck my cock?”

As his massive hands worked on my breasts as though they were bread dough, I knew instantly what the bishop wanted of me. I looked up into his eyes and said,

“Please sir, rape me. Rape my throat sir. Please.”

“On the table slut.”

I quickly jumped up on one of the tables in the room. Laying on my back I positioned myself so that my head was just hanging over the edge, my mouth wide open. I held my eyes wide open as god approached, hard and throbbing. His huge head stopped right in front of my mouth and I didn’t hesitate a moment before stretching our my tongue and beginning the worship god deserved. Around and around the swollen helmet and then the probing of my tongue under the foreskin.

Bishop Washington allowed this worship for a full three or four minutes before reaching down to take my breasts in his hands. He squeezed them hard and then used them to pull me hard towards god as he thrust his hips forward.

Being throat raped by god was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. God’s head crashed into the back of my mouth and just plunged forward. My throat was forced open so brutally that I thought I was being strangled. The was no mercy from God as he forced his way into my throat and down my gullet. I was impaled on a spit of hard black flesh. And just as I could feel the head of God pressing the entrance to my stomach, he was drawing back dragging the throat slime my gullet had instantly produced to pour over my face, into my nostrils and over my eyes.

God’s head nearly left my mouth, but not quite. The bishop paused for just a moment, re-gripping my breasts, and then plunged God deep into my throat once again. Gods heavy, sperm laden balls crashed against my face, the heavy orbs banging against my eyes. As God again pushed against the entrance to my stomach, I realized that I was nearly out of breath. If I wanted to survive this experience I would need to concentrate on catching a breath as God was drawing back for his next plunge. With my lips wrapped tightly around God, it was impossible to breath through my mouth. I had to suck in air as hard as I could through my nostrils. I was sucking air like a drowning pig.

It felt as though Bishop Washington was attempting to rip my breasts from my rib cage as he used them to help piledrive God into my throat. As I gasped for breath, the inevitable happened and the contents of my stomach came rushing up as God retreated from my gullet. As the vomit spewed from my mouth to pour over my face, the bishop ignored my gagging and heaving and simply continued to plunge God in and out of my face, every brutal thrust pounding into my throat until I was filled with every last millimeter of God’s greatness.

Being throat raped by god was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. With just a few brutal strokes, I had realized the need to get my breath whenever possible. I had also had it demonstrated that my gagging and even puking had no effect on God’s needs, pace or demands. In fact it had been clearly demonstrated that I had no responsibilities at all. All I needed to do was grip the table hard and take what God delivered. My throat was being raped. Whores should always be raped. Submission was the only course of action.

“That’s it rape meat,” the bishop barked, “gimme that fuckin throat. Show me how much you want another fuckin’ tattoo on your bald head.”

I did want it. I wanted to get my checkmarks as soon as possible. I desperately needed to experience God in my cunt. I tried hard to relax my throat even further as I arched my back, trying hard to make my breasts as accessible as possible for the bishop. It was as though he was reading my mind. His hands released my tit flesh and then re-gripped them at the very base. He gave each one a hard twist and then used them to pull my body up onto his cock.

It was impossible to speak or beg or do anything but submit. But a true black cock whore always begs, and so in my mind, I began my own mantra of complete submission:

rape me god

please rape my throat

abuse my breasts

please god, use my throat for your pleasure

rape me god

I am yours

my throat and my body belong to you

I am nothing but a vessel for you god

for you and for your heavenly seed

please rape me and then feed me my lord

pour your seed into my belly

nourish me with god’s holy nectar

rape me

rape me

rape me

And then god was gone. The bishop released my breasts, pulled god from my gullet and began to erupt. The first blast sprayed a rope across my face, chin, neck, breasts and belly. And then it stopped. But I could still hear the bishop stroking god and pouring his seed.

“Roll over and watch this bitch,” he commanded with a growl.

I complied immediately and quickly and as I watched, the bishop aimed god at the ground as he pumped his massive load of seed. The ground was covered with my own vomit. The vile contents of my stomach that god had so recently forced me to purge. Rope after rope, stream after stream of gods wonderful semen poured over top of the vomit pooled on the floor. God came and came. Eight, nine, ten huge streams of sperm kept falling from the swollen ebony head of god. When finally god’s orgasm abated, the bishop slapped me hard on the face and commanded,

“Get on the floor, you fuckin’ piece of shit. Who the fuck do you think you are puking all over god. First you’re going to squat in that mess and lick me clean. From my toes to my belly button, you’re going to clean me with your fuckin’ tongue and swallow it all.”

My mouth was already on the floor, my tongue lapping between the bishops toes as he continued,

“And when you’re done with me, you’re going to clean this fuckin mess off the floor. Every last stinking drop of your god damn puke is going right back in your belly along with the sperm that you don’t rightly deserve. When the floor is spotless, you will report to the slutmomma superior and tell her that you’ve failed to get the checkmark of bishop Washington and that you pray to be punished every morning for the next week. You will beg her to have you caned every morning and afternoon by 20 black cock sluts. Each one will give you just one stroke of the cane to be sure that every single one is the strongest possible. You will beg to have them cane your ass in the morning and your fucking udders every afternoon.”

I was shuddering in fear of such an awful punishment, but my tongue didn’t slow down in the least. I thought that the punishment was finished, but I was wrong.

“You will also explain to the slutmomma just why you are being punished. You will tell her that you need to learn very well where the contents of a slut belly belongs. You will have her take you to the slut bathroom and you will lie down, face up in the bathtub. You will then ask the slutmomma to gag you with her hand until you puke again. Let it cover your face and then just lie there and wait. You will there until two hours after lunch when the twenty sluts who will be caning you will join you in the bathroom. Each of them will gag themselves with their own fingers and empty the contents of their bellies onto you and into the tub. You will eat it all, slut. Every day you will empty a bathtub full of puke and vomit into your own belly. This will be your only meal of the day for the next week.”

My tongue was lapping away that last specs of puke from the bishop’s ball sack as he stepped back, slapped me again hard across the face and then turned to leave. I bent to the floor and proceeded to begin fulfilling my sentence. I was sobbing as I lapped the mess from the floor and contemplated the horrible week that I was going to be enduring.

to be continued...